


Puppy Love

by tryasockon



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dogs, First Kiss, M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-20 03:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15525162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryasockon/pseuds/tryasockon
Summary: Zach's Rebranding Strategy for High School hadn't included a boyfriend that was, without a doubt, cooler than he is, but he's not going to complain about plan improvisation.





	1. Chapter 1

On the year anniversary of the death of Zach’s cat, Zach started high school, and he and his parents entered what they would later recognize as the terrifying world of _dealing with a teenager_.

Zach had a knack for making friends in middle school, and an astounding talent for annoying them by the end of the month. Middle school drew to a close and he had been ostracized by all but one elementary school acquaintance, Keith, who he supposed was his best friend by default. Keith was affable, despite his own brand of weirdness, and didn't have nearly the trouble with school Zach had. Between bouts of bad poetry and loud music, Zach mostly blamed himself for that. By that logic, Chomper (so named as a bitey kitten, before he had lost all of his teeth) had been Zach’s only other friend, a fact he was determined never to reveal to newly made friends as he rebranded in the high school scene. Mockery and pity, he’d found, did not relationship cornerstones make.

The summer between middle and high school he’d planned to fill with said rebranding campaign. Trips to the mall, figuring out what the cooler kids, the _older_ kids were wearing. Really get a head start on things.

Then his parents had told him he’d be puppysitting for the summer, as though it were a great favor they were doing him. In fact...

“--like you’re doing me some _big favor_!”

“A puppy, Zach!” His mom’s smile didn’t crack.

“Two dogs!” His dad crowed at the same time. “Exciting right? Come on, it’ll get you out of the house, you’ll make some money. I know you’ve been wanting new clothes, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Zach hedged because at least they’d been listening and, hey, who didn’t like dogs?

Zach. Zach didn’t like dogs...or at least he vastly preferred cats.

He fell back in his seat and stared at his potatoes as though they’d wronged him. _The money had better be good._

* * *

Looking up at the Yang’s house, past the gate, he didn’t think he’d have to worry about the money.

_"They’re visiting Korea for the summer,” his dad explained. “They have someone staying, watching the house, but the son’s very picky about the dogs, apparently. Wants someone to watch them, spend extra time with them, take them on more walks than maybe the caretaker is being paid for.”_

_“He’s using his allowance on it,” his mother said, mostly to herself. “Very thoughtful.”_

The caretaker, a lovely older woman whose name Zach would have to write down to remember, allowed him in the gate and gave him the keys to the house with a few instructions. What not to touch, where not to go. It was a little free-reign for his first ‘job’ in his estimation, but he made his way into the house, trepidatious, but without incident.

He could hear the scratching nails from further inside like an omen. There was a note the caretaker had mentioned and he looked for it, finding it easily on the low table in the entryway. _Pesto and Emma, Care Of_. The list was extensive. Good, he thought. Nothing he’d have to call someone about at least.

The scratching got louder until, at his feet, a small beast with curled hair circled and stopped to sniff at his toes. Small. He could handle small dogs.

* * *

By the end of the first walk, Emma crawling up his shoulder and Pesto running ahead, he had to admit they were pretty cute.

He'd been instructed to send pictures to an attached number (the son's presumably) and he snapped a few blurry photos of Pesto as he ran around the living room and Emma, a worried expression on her face that was seemingly permanent.

A few hours later, over a reheated dinner, he received a reply:

_Aren't they perfect?_

* * *

He'd never expected the other number to text back (Eugene, he’d learned the sender’s name was, and by the pictures in his house a serious guy around his age). Given the time difference between Wherever, Korea and Pomona, California., Zach was always shocked at Eugene's timeliness...but he didn't know the guy. As much as he wanted to respond, he couldn't think of anything to say.

After a few more non-responses on Zach's part, Eugene seemed to get the message and stopped texting back (apart from a particularly cute picture of Emma midway through the first week). Zach let Pesto curl around his ankle with a toy while Emma lounged across his legs and felt a little guilty.

He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the scene, adding the caption:

_You've made a grave mistake letting me take care of these dogs. I might steal Emma._

After a few minutes his phone buzzed.

 _I don't blame you. Emma is the best. <buzz>_ _But in seriousness I know where you live. <buzz> Well...my dad does._

Zach wondered if he should text back. Before he could second guess it, he typed out, _Must be late there._

The picture Eugene sent back was from a balcony, a bright red and orange sunrise framed between tall buildings. _Early actually._

_Korea looks dope._

_Lol yeah._

Zach immediately felt insecure and sent a follow up: _I mean it's pretty._

_I got you._

_I'm Zach btw._

A minute later a screenshot appeared below his text of what was obviously Eugene's contact list. Circled in purple with a smile was _Zzzach the Puppysitter_.

* * *

Zach texted his third mermaid emoji in the space of five minutes.

Over the past few weeks, Eugene and he had sent a volley of texts, evolving from the adventures of Emma and Pesto into their own day-to-day. There were a delightful number of cats Eugene managed to capture and send to Zach for evaluation (always 10/10), the food the Yang’s ordered looked delicious, and Zach didn't want to know how much Eugene was spending on clothes (he asked anyway and had still been underestimating).

Zach’s own messages were far less interesting, he felt. Pictures of he and Keith playing video games, daily updates of the new neighbors moving in across from the Yang’s, namely the dog he kept running into on his daily walks.

Their current conversation revolved around said neighbor, Ned. Older than Zach by a year, his parents had bought him a labradoodle, Bean, as something of a condolence present for making him move his sophomore year of high school. He was a _huge nerd_ about sports, but a bigger nerd about his girlfriend.

Ned was a nice guy but they'd hung out twice now (Zach thought he may not have many friends yet) and he’d spent half that time talking about how much he missed his gal back home, like some lovelorn cowboy. Zach texted Eugene a mermaid emoji every time Ned mentioned her because when the name _Ariel_ presented itself, one did not pass up so grand an opportunity.

For the first time in weeks, Eugene didn’t text him back.

* * *

Zach woke to the unmistakable buzz of the phone next to his bed. He picked it up, as well as his glasses, shoving them clumsily on his face to read the numbers on the screen. Two in the morning, one new message from _Ewwgene_.

_send me pics_

Zach reached behind him to switch in his lamp, still groggy as he typed back.

_Nudes?_

_Assshole. The dogs._

_Nude dogs?_ He rolled his eyes at the lengthy silence that followed and tried again. _dude it's 2 am here._

_I'm in a bad mood._

Zach considered that he had never seen Eugene in a bad mood before remembering he'd never  _seen_ Eugene at all.

_Korea not so dope?_

_Parents._ Zach was in the middle of an understanding, if trite reply when his phone buzzed again. _I want to go home._

Zach deleted whatever platitudes he had typed and settled instead for switching his phone to selfie mode. He looked like shit, especially with no shirt and three hours of sleep, but he was needed. He opened his eyes as wide as he could, pursed his lips, slapped the dog filter on it and hit send.

A few seconds later, Eugene responded.

_lol nude dog._

Tone was hard to grasp over text, but Zach was getting relatively fluent in Eugene. Anyone else and the silence that followed would have had Zach rushing to apologize.

In this case, he was pretty sure he'd managed to cheer him up.

* * *

Keith finally worked up the stones to ask out Becky, some girl who’d recently joined the local theater troupe he’d been in since elementary school, near the end of June and hanging out with Zach took a firm backseat to following her around like a baby duckling.

Not that Zach was jealous or anything. He was busy...stalking, was probably the accurate term.

Yeah, Zach found Eugene’s Instagram account while he was stalking. Turned out Eugene was a sophomore, same as Ned, and going to the same school as Zach was next year, so that was going to be...possibly interesting.

The pictures surprised him. Eugene wasn’t just handsome, he was _hot_. He supposed that was  more of a luxury than a surprise. It was how happy Eugene looked, knowing what he now knew, and the supportive comments from a larger number of people than Zach was used to seeing on social media that got to him. Eugene was…popular. Not surprising, he considered. Eugene was rich and, as now doubly determined, attractive. Zach felt a different sort of jealousy he resented in himself instantly.

That day he sent a picture of himself in front of the spray of his shower, imitating the latest of Eugene in front of some waterfall and complete with hashtag _EwwgeneLife_.

Eugene didn’t text back until a few hours later, but Zach smiled as soon as he read it. _I love it. More, I demand more!_

* * *

Much of July passed the same way. Eventually Keith pulled away from Becky enough to apologize for not hanging out as often as they used to. As a part of his rebranding strategy, Zach pretended he didn’t care; a zero clinginess policy. Besides, Becky _was_ pretty cool, and it made Keith feel less guilty.

Zach walked the familiar path to the Yang’s and thought about his next text to Eugene. He was honestly considering asking if they were friends, but even someone as emotionally inexperienced as he realized how _weird_ that sounded. He sent his standard picture of Emma and Pesto, instead, and physically jumped as his phone rang.

He did the mental math, taking in Eugene’s name lighting up his phone. It had to be close to three in the morning, he thought, hitting answer.

“Hello,” his voice cracked embarrassingly. No one responded, but he had definitely gotten through to someone. He heard breathing on the other end. “...Eugene?”

“Wow, sorry this is more awkward than I thought.” A boy’s voice, deeper than his said. There came a peel of nervous laughter and then, “Hi, is that what you sound like?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Zach fell on the couch, wincing as Emma scattered to the other corner. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Eugene started again slowly, setting them both off into fits of giggles.

“Everything all right?” Zach asked when he finally settled.

“Yeah, I just…,” Eugene was quiet for the space of a few breaths. Long enough that Zach nearly interrupted from sheer anxiety. Eugene was clearly a person who took his time. “Have you been flirting with me?”

“ _What_?”

“It’s cool if you haven’t!” Eugene rushed back in to say, words tripping over themselves to get out now, in stark opposition to his earlier recalcitrance. “It’s just if you _were_ ,” Zach heard Eugene mutter something in what was undoubtedly Korean before continuing, “that’s cool. I think.”

Zach thought back on all of their texts, the pictures he’d sent, and that uneasy feeling anytime he had to put his phone away for an extended period of time (family dinner was the _worst_ ). The lifting sensation from the pit of his stomach when he could take it out again and, as always, one new message (sometimes more).

Holy shit, they _had been_ flirting. Zach had been _flirting_! _Eugene_ had been flirting _back_!

He opened his mouth to say he’d never dated a boy, because it was the most honest response he could think of, particularly while his brain continued to short circuit. Then he realized...he’d never dated _anyone_ and, _no, Mom_ , he didn’t think Samantha Aldridge agreeing to hold his hand during the middle school formal counted.

“Are you asking me out?” he clarified just to make sure.

“I mean, I guess?” If one could feel tone through a wire, Eugene’s would have been a wince. “Technically I’m asking if you were trying to ask me...so I could say yes.”

“Oh. Oh. Cool, cool, okay, cool,” Zach tapped an irregular beat against his thigh. “Let me call you back.”

Eugene didn’t respond immediately and, when he did, it sounded quiet and tightly controlled. “Alright.”

Zach bit his lip, sinking his hands into Pesto’s fur. “I _promise_ I’ll call you back I just need to process.”

When Eugene spoke this time, his words sounded a little more relaxed. “Alright.”

He ended the call and kept the phone held loosely in his hand. He thought about calling Ned, but didn’t know if he could stomach hearing more about Ariel right now. He looked at the clock. Eleven thirty. His parents would both be at work, but they’d pick up if they saw it was him calling. He weighed the exhaustion of hearing Ned talk for a half an hour about true love versus the irritation of a short phone call with his mother.

He dialed his mom’s office before he could finish the thought, listening to the steady ring. His parents had been dating since high school. If one of _them_ didn’t know how to help…

“Sweetie?” Zach registered immediate concern in his mother’s voice.

“Hey, Mom? Quick question?”

“...what did you do?”

“Nothing, I’m over at the Yang’s--”

“Oh my God, are the dogs okay?”

“They’re fine, Mom! Listen! When you and Dad decided to go out, how did you know it was, you know...a good idea?”

“What?” She chuckled. “Why? Honey, are you interested in someone--”

“No, Mom,” Zach cut off that line of thought as quickly as he could. “I know you’re at work, can we speed this along?”

“Is this for a project?”

“Yeah, family history project. Help me out here.”

“Your father, huh?” He could hear the creak of her office chair as she settled in it with contemplative noises. “He made me laugh. Made me comfortable. The looks didn’t hurt, he was very cute, but you want someone you can be yourself around.”

“Okay, that’s great stuff, thanks!” Zach held the phone away from his ear, finger hovering over the button to end the call.

“Did that help?” She laughed, sounding too knowing for Zach’s liking.

“Yeah, awesome, thanks Mom, love you bye!”

“Love y--”

Zach hung up on her, phone dropping to his lap as he let out a breath. Emma pranced over to him and licked his elbow. He checked the clock. Eleven forty-two.

He wondered if Eugene was still holding his phone, waiting for him to call. If he’d gone back to bed.

He pulled up his recent contacts and thumbed down on Eugene’s name.

“Full disclosure,” Eugene said, by way of answering. “I only, uh, forty percent believed you’d be calling back.”

“That’s a higher number than I thought you’d give me, but I appreciate it.” Zach tugged Pesto up onto his lap for support. “And since we’re both being honest?  I didn’t know we were flirting.”

“Oh,” Eugene’s voice cracked. He tried to hide it under a cough but Zach was all too familiar with _that_ shitty side-effect of puberty. Eugene sounded more deflated the longer he went on. “Like I said, that’s fine. No worries. I just don’t want it to be weird now and--”  

“But, hey, hold on a second,” Zach buried his face in Pesto’s fur, his face clenched from his eyes to his teeth. Emma furiously licked his elbow and the attention she kept paying to it made him wonder what he had accidentally dipped it in. “I _do_ want to go out with you. Is that okay?”

“...why?”

“Why what? Why do I want to go out with you?”

“Obviously!”

“I don’t know! I like you? You’re hot and I like talking to you and shit, and you’re hot and I don’t feel stupid sending you my dumb jokes.”

“You said I was hot twice.”

Zach ignored him. “Why do you want to go out with _me_?”

“You’re cute and I like talking to you and shit, and you’re cute and you’re funny.”

 _He called me cute twice_. Zach thought, a little panicked and a lot flattered. “Well, okay then. Cool. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Eugene said, awkward and too formal.

“So are we dating now?”

“Yes?” Eugene said, sounding unsure. Then, more firmly. “Yes. Yeah, we’re dating.”

“Cool…,” They were both silent, each unclear of where the conversation should now go. Zach was saved by a scratching at his stomach. “Um, not to cut this short but I have to take your dogs out.”

“Right! Awesome! Give them so many kisses for me,” Eugene made noises that Zach, having come to know the abrupt shift in personality that came over the other boy with regards to his dogs, was fully prepared for. They were as ridiculous vocally as they were visually.

“Say bye Pesto, bye Emma,” Zach held the phone to their faces before ending the call. He walked to the entryway where the leashes were hanging, clipped them on the dogs and stepped outside.

Zach made it all the way to the park by Eugene’s house before his brain actually shouted at him. _You have a boyfriend._

The sentence repeated itself with increasing emphasis on the _boy_ part. What the hell did he think he was doing?

He pulled out his phone.

_Still being honest: I have no idea what I’m doing. Do I call you boyfriend?_

As he was leaving the park his pocket vibrated.

_This is great. Your floundering makes me look awesome._

Zach rolled his eyes as his phone buzzed again. He looked down and read the next message.

_Kidding, you’ll be fine._

Zach bit down on a grin and typed back.

_So can I send nudes now?_

* * *

Dating long distance turned out to be not much different than their previously established long distance friendship. They threw in the odd phone call, but between the time difference and ever-present parents, texting was far more convenient. Zach had been teasing about the nude pics, but he did send more selfies, even feeling vaguely confident about some of them. Eugene thought he was _cute_.

“Do you have a camera?” Eugene asked during one of their rare calls (ten at night for him, six in the morning and verging on far too early for Zach).

“Uh, yeah, hold on.” Zach yawned, adjusting himself upright and mussing his hair into something manageable. A few moments later, Eugene’s face appeared.

“Hey!” Eugene smiled, camera stuttering slightly.

“Hey,” Zach elongated the word, hoping he looked less awkward than he felt. Maybe his frame rate was equally shitty, that would be helpful.

“My mom and my sisters are stuck at dinner. I basically have the house all to myself.” Eugene seemed to be running down a flight of stairs, the jumpiness of his camera worse with each step. Zach closed his eyes against a wave of mild dizziness.

“Cool,” Zach made his way from the bed to his computer desk, keeping the camera above his waist. Eugene thought he was cute now, but he had been careful about keeping most of his scrawny frame out of their exchanges. “Big house.”

“My dad’s business rents it,” Eugene finally settled on a couch somewhere. “Is that your room?”

“Where the magic happens,” Zach spun around slowly. He could hear the low murmur of voices from Eugene's side of the phone, a swell of music. “What are you watching?”

“Uh,” Eugene struggled with his phone, flipping the screen. “ _Mister Sunshine_.”

Zach watched the uniformed man on screen for a few seconds, dramatic and beyond his understanding. “Any good?”

“It's the second episode,” Eugene flipped the camera back to face him, eyes still on the television beyond his phone. “That guy’s poor, in love with the rich girl--"

“Naturally.”

“And a U.S. marine who’s just found out about the Korean Expedition,” Zach stared at the phone, a study in blank incomprehension. “The first military action from the US against Korea.”

“Awkward.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Didn't know you liked history.”

“I like this history.” Eugene motioned in front of him. “I make straight A’s and I still feel like there's stuff the teachers back home aren't telling me you know?”

Zach winced. “Yep.”

Eugene raised a brow. “What's _that_ look?”

“Nothing much. I make, uh, sometimes less than all A’s.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “I don't expect everyone to be at my level, dude.”

“...I don't _always_ make B’s either.”

“Zach,” Eugene narrowed his eyes at the phone. “Am I dating--"

“A C student? Yes. And occasionally,” Zach took in a breath for effect. “A _D._ "

“I thought Jewish parents were more…”

“Careful, Eugene,” Zach wagged a finger, lips pulled down into a frown as he tried not to laugh.

"Seriously though how are you allowed to do anything?” Eugene tossed a hand into the air.  “A D? My parents would murder me! You would be talking to a ghost!”

“They think I'm acting out.”

“And that excuse works in your house?”

Zach opened his mouth, smiling again, when the sound of his door creaking open caught his attention.

“Who are you talking to, Zoogy?” His sister, still in her pajamas and looking more tired than he, was holding onto the knob, leaning against it for balance.

“Fuck, Stephi you scared me.”

“I'm gonna tell Mom you cussed.” She walked further inside, ignoring Zach’s dramatically rolled eyes. “He’s hot,” she motioned to the still image of Eugene, caught between frames again and clearly thinking it to be a picture.

“He can hear you,” Zach stage whispered, feeling delighted in the way only older siblings who've gotten one over on their younger siblings can.

“Holy shit!” Stephi backed away from Zach’s chair at Eugene’s chuckle, holding her face, and didn't stop until she was outside the door.

Zach yelled after the sound of her retreating steps. “I'm gonna tell Mom you cussed!”

* * *

Meeting Eugene in person for the first time had been as nerve wracking as Zach had expected.

_Landing in ONT tonight. Probably going to sleep all day tomorrow, but if you wanna come over my dad can pay you from my savings._

Zach stared at the message for a solid thirty seconds, reading and rereading it. In the time it took to process the words, he’d received another.

_Also we can hang, which, like, cool._

Which is how Zach found himself face to face with a weary Mr. Yang, checkbook out and smiling.

“Please come inside,” he motioned behind him and Zach obliged.

“Thanks, I’m actually a vampire, so that’s really helpful.” Eugene’s dad stared between Zach and the door, looking confused. “A joke, sorry. Dumb joke. You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you.”

“Zach,” the familiar sound of Eugene’s voice was much closer than it had any right to be. Zach felt a sickening, nervous vibration in his stomach. He didn’t want to look at the stairs, where he knew the other boy would be.

Luckily he was saved by the sound of tiny scratches as Pesto and Emma rushed down to greet him. He bent to scratch behind their ears, taking his time to look up at Eugene as he walked towards the entryway.

Being closer did not make him _less_ attractive, Zach thought, the vibrations in his stomach becoming something of a bounce, like a buoy in the shallows. _Hazard, hazard!_

Zach brought Emma up with him like a tiny, adorable shield. “Oh my gosh, you’re a real person.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Eugene looked equally untethered, reaching down to scoop up Pesto and turning to his dad. “Can Zach come upstairs?”

“Don’t make a lot of noise,” his dad ripped off a check, handing it to Zach, who took it with a nod of appreciation. “Your sisters are still asleep.”

Zach stuffed the check into his back pocket and hefted Emma onto his shoulder, following Eugene in slow, quiet steps until they reached his door.

“My room,” Eugene made a show of spinning before depositing Pesto on the bed.

“Where the magic happens?” Zach chuckled. It wasn’t much of a joke but he was too nervous to think of anything better

It was a room as nice as the rest of the house, if sparsely decorated. Having spent a good amount of time on his Instagram, Zach imagined Eugene didn’t spend much of his creative effort in here. There was a bed, a desk, and the corner housed a small entertainment system; everything was fairly well organized.

Eugene watched Zach examine the room for an uncomfortably long time. Finally Zach broke. “Hello, real person Eugene. I like your room.”

“Thank you, real person Zach.” Eugene brought an arm up to scratch his elbow. It was the most adorably awkward thing Zach had ever seen him do.

“This is awkward.”

“It’s more awkward when you _say_ it’s awkward.” Eugene gave him a severe look that was, oddly, comforting. Zach placed Emma on the bed beside Pesto. “Do you want to...break up?”

“What? Why?” Zach backed up suddenly, as though his physical closeness was what pushed Eugene to such a drastic statement. “I mean, if you want to break up with _me_ ,” he shook out his legs, “I’d get it. Look at these spaghetti noodles.”

“Your legs are fine,” Eugene rolled his eyes. “I feel like I should give you an out, in case you suddenly realized _oh God what have I done_.”

“No, this is just my normal level of general anxiety and panic,” Zach shrugged, trying to signal ‘ _What you see is what you get’_ with a sweep of his arms. “Welcome to Zachtown, population of sorry.”

“Oh, that’s not...,” Eugene started quietly, mouth moving awkwardly as he did some clicking motion with his teeth. “Don’t be sorry.”

Zach didn’t know what to say to that, so he focused on something he _could_ respond to, eyes clocking the entertainment system again. “...can we watch more _Mister Sunshine_?”

Eugene’s gaze followed his, seeming to relax a little at the change of subject. “I don’t have that one. We can watch my favorite.”

Zach examined the case Eugene held out to him. “ _Full House_ ? Eugene this looks... _bad_.” Eugene winced and Zach took his hands with a grin. “How much can we watch before my parents call to make sure I’m not dead?”

Eugene stared at their hands and Zach pulled away with a muttered apology.

 _Oops, oops, oops_ , he bounced on his heels as Eugene set up the DVD. He and Keith were normally so tactile with one another he hadn’t even thought about it, but...he had no idea what he was doing here.

“I guess that depends on how much they love you,” Eugene smirked at him over his shoulder. “Do your parents love you, Zach?”

“My parents would build a statue of me in the middle of the town if the city ordinances would allow it.”

Eugene laughed, pulling open his closet doors and dragging out a fuzzy ottoman. “A few episodes then, maybe.”

Zach settled on the ottoman, letting Eugene take over his own bed. After a few minutes, he pulled out his phone.

_Your hair looks better without filters somehow._

Eugene looked from Zach to his lap, where his own phone lay and, after a second’s indecision, flipped it over. He smiled and typed back.

_I’ll show you what I use later._

_That’s not natural? Eugene, this relationship is still new. Lie to me._

_I was making a shower joke, Zach. Keep up._

“Oh my God, is she going to lose the house?” Zach set his phone down, fighting a losing battle with his blush and leaning forward to get a closer look at the subtitles.

“I’m not telling you!” Eugene said, looking victorious. “Watch the show!”

Zach waited until he felt his face cool down before flipping the phone back over to type. _Would holding hands be awkward?_

_Only because you said it out loud._

_I’m not talking._

_You’re also pretty far away._

Zach looked over to see Eugene still looking at the screen. He slid his ottoman closer and Eugene, obligingly, held a hand out to meet him. Zach felt his throat close up; he couldn’t have said anything if he wanted to, expending all of his energy as it was on not squeezing and not losing his grip all together.

An hour later, his parents called him home for dinner and, in that time, he wasn’t sure he’d absorbed any of the events on the screen at all.

* * *

The end of July came quickly and Eugene warned Zach he'd be busy with the dual hit of readjusting to life back home and getting ready for school. For Zach’s part it suddenly hit him that, between his impromptu summer job and…accidently acquiring a _boyfriend,_ he'd nearly secluded himself, not giving a thought to school.

He finally managed to make it to the mall during one of the last weekends of July, ditching his mom and Stephi to meet Keith and Becky at the end of the line for Donahoo’s Golden Chicken. They made it four clothing stores in before he realized he had no idea what he wanted to buy.

“What's wrong with your clothes?” Keith leaned against the nearest rack, shaking his bag of cinnamon nuts and peering between the folds of paper.

“I told you,” Zach held up a mint green shirt to his chest. “Rebranding.”

Keith rolled his eyes, holding out the bag in his hand. Zach shook his head, his stomach still roiling against the earlier mall food he’d ingested. “I'm going to find Becky. Tell me if you need help.” He looked back over his shoulder as he walked away. “Hey! Maybe she can help.”

Zach waved him off. Still it wasn't a bad idea, given the right person. He pulled out his phone.

_Time to chat?_

_Give me,_ One text came through and then nothing for a minute. _One second. Driving._

Zach stared at his phone until Eugene’s name lit up the screen. “Eugene! Stop the texts! Stop the wrecks!”

“Yeah, thanks, Mom.” The sound of Eugene’s voice was muffled as he shouldered his phone. “What’s up?”

“Can you help me pick out cool people clothes?”

“What clothes?”

“Clothes that cool people, like you, wear.” Zach clarified

Eugene laughed. “I’m not _cool_ , I just know what looks good.”

“Oh my God, only cool people say shit like that,” Zach mumbled, not nearly quiet enough. “If you’re not cool, you do a really good job of faking it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t wear what I wear but I don’t know if I should be your baseline.”

Zach held up the shirt again, grasping it with his chin and trying to keep it there. It fell on the floor almost immediately, and he gave up with a sigh, switching the phone to speaker and throwing it on the bench in front of him. “I don’t need your closet, I just need to pick your brain for a day. Or to borrow your confidence, if you can pickle that.”

“Disgusting,” Eugene laughed. “Send me a picture of what you have. No, wait,” Zach stopped laying out the outfit he’d chosen, head tilted towards the phone. “Just snap the entire rack.”

Zach did so and walked back and forth along the rack as Eugene debated externally with too many _Nopes, Nuh-uhs,_ and _Ugh_ ’s for Zach. This was the _affordable_ section.

Eugene finally made a positive noise. “Try the leather jacket.”

“What is this, _Grease_?”

“And the pair of jeans, third to the end.”

“With the holes in them? Why would I pay for half of what I’m getting?”

“...Zach.”

“Huh?”

“You called me for advice, do you want it or not?” Zach looked at the phone. “Not to brag, but I’m kind of good at this.”

“Not to brag, he says--”

“Babe, have you seen my follower count?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try them!” Zach bundled the clothes into his arms. _Babe, babe, babe..._

“Zach?” Keith’s head popped over the rack startling Zach into a high pitched gasp.

“Oh, gotta go,” Zach tucked the phone to his stomach and, realizing how rude, not to mention weird that must look, pulled it back up to say. “Talk to you tonight, bye!”

“Was that Eugene?” Keith asked over the quiet _bye_ before Zach hit _End Call_.

“Yep.”

“He called you ‘babe’.”

“Yep.”

“Is that a Korean thing or a you two thing?”

“Are we really going to talk about this?” Zach blushed. _Babe, he did call you babe._

“Hey,” Keith coughed into his hand, rounding the aisle. Zach could see Becky stop a short distance from them with a worried look. He shot her a reassuring smile that she returned a little more confidently than he felt. “You know you’re my best friend, right?”

It hit Zach very suddenly that he was standing in the middle of a mall clothing store, holding clothes very unsuited to him, his best friend’s hand on his shoulder like he was about to have hysterics...and, hell, maybe he was. But he’d have no idea how to explain that to anyone, so he swallowed it down.

“Yeah, man. You too.”

“Okay, so, like...we cool?”

“We’re cool.” Zach punched his shoulder lightly, nearly dropping the clothes in his arms as Keith turned away. “Wait, wait...,”

“What’s up?” Keith turned back _too_ quickly, looking _too_ eager and Zach almost said _Nothing_.

“You and Becky, uh, you’ve kissed right?”

Keith’s eyes flicked nervously behind him before he slowly replied. “Yes.”

“When do you _do_ that?”

“I don’t know,” Keith scratched the back of his neck. “When it feels right.”

“Oh that’s such a cheesy bullshit answer.” Zach bunched his shoulders in mild frustration.

“It’s the right one though. They’re usually the most cheesy.” Keith stared at Zach’s phone, still clutched desperately in his hand. “So you want to kiss boys now…?”

“I don’t want to kiss _you_.” Zach said a little waspishly. “And girls are still great.”

“But you want to kiss Eugene,” Keith clarified, quickly tacking on, “Wait what’s wrong with me?”

“ _Yes_ , I want to kiss Eugene, can you not tell the whole store?”

“Sorry,” Keith said, looking contrite. “Can I tell Becky?”

“Yes, you can tell Becky, she probably heard you anyway.” Zach grimaced.

“So...you want to kiss Eugene.” Keith repeated, sounding happier now.

“There’s just something really cool about knowing I _can_ ,” Zach felt his cheeks heat up. “And it makes it like, yeah I want to do that because I can.”

“See?” Keith’s smile was so wide and self-satisfied that Zach wanted to throw his phone at it. “Cheesy bullshit.”

In the end, Zach’d hated how the clothes looked on him and settled on a more comfortable shirt from the new printing machine in that bra store Becky and his sister liked. He threw a picture of a sun winning a race on it, amazed it only cost twenty dollars.

“You know you can put pictures from your phone on it?” Becky said, scrolling through the options for ‘food with funny faces’.

It took very little convincing to spend another twenty on a shirt for Eugene with Emma and Pesto’s faces plastered on the front.

* * *

The week leading into August was a mad rush of anxiety and school supplies. Zach didn’t speak to Eugene beside the odd skull text and Eugene’s only replies had been the oddly spaced, if comforting, picture of Pesto or Emma.

The night before his first day of high school he stared at his ceiling at close to one in the morning and texted another skull followed only by the words, _High school_.

 _You too, huh?_ Eugene sent back a few minutes later. Zach hoped it hadn’t woken him, but it didn’t seem likely.

_Did you feel like you were going to puke before your first day?_

_No but I didn't have a boyfriend._

Zach considered the text before asking, _Girlfriend?_

 _For a little while. Not my thing._ Zach’s fingers hovered over the keys. His phone buzzed again. _We don't have to say anything you know._

 _I don't mind being Eugene's boyfriend_ . _People want to know that guy._ Zach answered immediately. _Hell, I'd want to know that guy._

_I sense a follow up text..._

_Well-sensed, Young Padawan. I feel like I’m preparing for everyone to find out I'm the same annoying kid they hated in middle school. And I know I am so don't bother with the, “oh you're not annoying Zach!” bs_

_You're annoying sometimes. I like you anyway._ Eugene said, along with an abundance of smiley faces. _Speaking as the gay, Asian kid who survived the hell of middle school and freshman year can you just trust me when I say you'll be okay?_

Zach can't imagine Eugene having his middle school experience, but put like that he feels a little selfish for thinking as much. Before he can respond Eugene texts again.

_You’ll be okay. You’re funny, and cute, and more confident than you give yourself credit for. No pickled confidence required._

_Disgusting._ Zach grinned at the phone. _Thanks. See you tomorrow_. He threw a backpack emoji on just to show he wasn’t dreading it as much as all that and, before he could overthink it, added a kiss emoji too. 

He devoted the next few minutes to not thinking about the implications of _that_ text upon seeing Eugene, happy at least that the other boy would be there. He dug his hand into his bedside table to grab his headphones and shoved the buds into his ears. Ten minutes later, he let the quiet, dramatic strains of _Mister Sunshine’s_ opening theme lull him to sleep.

* * *

High school was always going to be intimidating, Zach told himself as he leaned over to give his mom a reluctant hug before sliding out of the car. He considered what he didn’t have, by his estimation: looks, charm, style, money. It was a lot. Then he considered what he had.

He had Keith, because he always had Keith. He had an athlete for a potential ally, because Ned still seemed to like him after the summer. Somewhere in his backpack was a shirt with Emma and Pesto’s face on it, because Zach had a boyfriend.

He steeled himself. This was fine.

“I'm dragging Becky to sign up for clubs after school,” Keith closed his locker, missing the lock twice before managing to click it shut. “Oooh, don’t make that face, buddy! There’re a lot more options than at our old school.”

“Because our old school had the equivalent funding of HUD,” Zach said, falling into step beside him.

“And speaking of development,” Keith motioned ahead of them with a smile that verged on _puckish_. “There’s Eugene.”

Eugene was in a more open section of the hall by the entrance of the school, surrounded by a semi-circle of people and looking completely at ease. Zach drew his shoulders back and tried desperately to look like he belonged between the too-tall students (Keith being no help in that regard). No matter how hard Zach stared, the other boy wouldn't look up at them.

“You...wanna go say hey?” Keith ribbed him lightly.

Zach readjusted his backpack further up in his shoulder with a decisive nod. It still took a small shove at his back to get him properly moving.

Eugene _did_ look up at the offended 'Hey!’ Zach shot up at Keith. Zach pressed forward, pretending he hadn't been planted in the middle of the hallway like the starstruck teenager he definitely was. Eugene kept up whatever conversation he was having with the small crowd, but managed a small smile and a wave in their direction.

A few of the group split off by the time they met near the doors, leaving only Eugene, and two others; a girl around Zach’s height and a boy standing shoulder to shoulder with Eugene. Zach nodded pleasantly at them and tried not to feel underdressed. They weren’t as stylish as Eugene, but they both clearly had _a style_.

“Hey Zach,” Eugene motioned towards him. “This is the guy who took care of Emma and Pesto while I was out of town. Zach, this is Hannah and Andrew.”

“Hey,” the boy who must be Andrew gave a short wave.

“I think I know you,” Hannah narrowed her eyes. Zach raised his hands to frame her face and, yeah, without the hair style she seemed familiar. “Temple Beth Israel?”

“On North Towne Avenue? Yeah! You cut your hair.” He lowered his hands to hover in the air, smile wide. She curled a finger into her hair, spinning some of the shorter strands into a ridiculous curl. Beside him, Keith coughed. “Oh, and this is Keith!”

Eugene pointed at him. “ _You’re_ in my drama club.”

“I...am?” Keith’s eyes flicked towards Zach.

“Zach says you do drama. I’m the President. I’m assuming you’ll be joining?”

“I _am_ ,” Keith repeated, sounding more confident now. “You’re looking at your new Vice President.”

“Congratulations on creating and filling a position on your first day of school,” Eugene tilted his head down a fraction.

“I might want to sign up first.” Keith said, the last of his words drowned out by the first bell. He nudged Zach, motioning back towards their lockers. “That’s us. Ten minutes.”

“I’ll catch up.” Zach gave him an assuring look and another, firmer one when Keith stopped a few feet away, reluctant to leave.

“Don’t blame me if you have to sit near the front,” Keith made a disapproving noise, waving at the others as he continued down the hall.

“I’d better get going too,” Hannah thumbed towards the stairs at her left. “English first thing.”

Hannah stopped a few feet away, clearly waiting for _something_. Andrew looked at her, confused, then between the other three. There was an embarrassed pause. “I’m...going with you?” Hannah nodded, eyes rolling dramatically. “Yeah. Good luck, Zach. See ya, Eugene.”

Eugene waved them off and rocked back on his heels, staring at Zach. It grew into one of those slightly unsettling moments in which Zach accidentally reminded himself _this person likes me._ It was an unfamiliar feeling he tried not to dwell on much, lest he forget how to be a functioning human being.

Eugene didn't seem to be suffering from the same problem. School was apparently Eugene's element, or else whatever nerves he’d felt at his house upon their first meeting had been absorbed, processed, and determined irrelevant now. No one was _that_ good at hiding.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Eugene lips lifted into a grin. “You even _knew_ someone.”

“Okay, it's honestly creepy how close you sound to my mom right now.” Zach dragged his eyes away, settling on the backpack slowly slipping to rest on his elbow.

Eugene looked past him, clearly amused. “I like Keith.”

“I know,” Zach said. “Everyone likes Keith. He’s a likable fella.”

“And so modest.”

“Oh, never that.” Zach unzipped his backpack a few inches, considered the people flooding up the stairs, and rethought the action. He turned to seek out the...there it was. A bathroom, two doors to the right of the stairs. “Do you mind? I have to give you something that might be...embarrassing.”

Eugene followed his line of sight. “...in the _bathroom_?”

Zach knew that had drawn some attention because people were turning to stare at them. He started walking, grabbing Eugene's wrist as he passed. “It'll just take a second.”

“ _Zach_ ,” Eugene hissed. _Now_ he sounded nervous.

It took another few moments to filter how their exchange must sound to anyone not inside Zach’s head, but by that point he’d squeezed inside the restroom, and had started rummaging for the shirt. “Don't be gross.”

“This is the first floor restroom,” Eugene raised a challenging brow. “Ashly Perez told me this is _absolutely_ the meth bathroom since two years back when Adam B caught one of the teachers cooking some in _that_ urinal.”

Zach stopped digging to look up. “Wouldn't that just make this the cool bathroom?”

“Drugs aren't cool, Zach,” Eugene crossed his arms. “Alcohol’s cool, but they weren't mixing a tub of no-no juice, it was straight _tweek_ . So whatever you came in here to ‘give me’? Congratulations, you made it _gross_.”

“Oh yeah?” Zach pulled out the shirt with a flourish. “Check _this shit_ out.”

Eugene took it, gaze tracking down the front, expression softening.  “Okay this is amazing. Where did you get it?”

“A bra shop,” Zach rolled his tongue on the _r_.

“Wanna go after school?”

“Sure,” Zach said, a five minute warning bell echoing through the (admittedly gross) bathroom. “I can meet you wherever club sign ups are happening, since I guess that’s a _thing_ Keith and you are doing.”

“Boosts your GPA,” Eugene lifted a shoulder. “Which you could use, Mister C-Average.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“I always will,” Eugene assured him, sounding more menacing than sweet. He folded his shirt and sliding it between two of his books. “You know, I was worried, but I guess this answers my question.”

“What question?”

“If you really meant it. Being out at school, stuff like that,” Eugene sounded as collected as he had been while introducing them to his friends, but he was leaning over the sink, focused entirely on checking his teeth and hair in the mirror. Maybe he _was_ that good at hiding his own nervousness.

“Sure,” Zach shrugged, covering with humor that same panicky feeling he’d had since he’d woken up. No, since Eugene had asked him out. “Honestly you can only _improve_ my reputation. It's _you_ who outta look out. How many followers are you at now…?”

“Shut up,” Eugene ribbed him with a smile as he walked past. “You know, I may have friends, and a good amount of social credit established here, but I know this school’s gossip mill and you just _made_ your reputation.”

Zach stared at him blankly. Eugene took his hand off of the door and turned around. He bent slightly, and it took a deep breath on Zach’s part not to startle away.

“Friends, dating, whatever people think we are,” Eugene pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Zach’s lips, light and barely noticeable had Zach remembered to take a breath and not been holding his eyes wide open. “You're the freshman who dragged Eugene Yang into a bathroom on his first day of school.”

Zach remembered to breathe when the final bell rang and Eugene cursed, still a little too close. Zach took his glasses off, wiping down one lens, then the other. He heard Eugene say goodbye through the ringing in his ears and, eventually, the bathroom door swing open and shut. When he once again found that place in his brain that held the Zach codes for ‘functional human being’, he rebooted and left the bathroom too.

* * *

Study hall was more loosely organized than Zach expected, with groups of people breaking off to go to different classes or smaller rooms in the library. He knew Keith was in the large auditorium of the school. They’d arranged it so they’d have nearly all of their classes together, except drama, which Zach had turned down flat. He gathered his books and followed the small map inside his binder in that direction. The path took him past the track field where Ned and a few others were doing laps.

“Woo!” Zach shook the steel gate next to his face. “Fulmer, Fulmer, he’s our man, if he can’t do it, call Ariel!”

Between pants, Ned actually smiled at him for that. The teacher further down the track clapped against his clipboard with a short, “Cut it out!”

“Wanna join the cheer squad?”

A few girls in matching sweaters stood close enough to the fence to call up to him. One stood apart from the others, with an expectant expression and a hand on her hip. Zach looked behind himself, then back when she spoke again.

“Yeah, you!” She pointed, using her other hand to straighten brown bangs that had blown into her eyes. It was impossible to tell if she was teasing, but her face was all smiles at least.

“Nah,” he leaned back, balancing his books to pull up on one leg. “No glute strength.”

“Give us a shout if you change your mind.” She tapped two fingers to her forehead with a wink. “You’re kind of cute and we could always use a pyramid topper.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he snorted, setting back on his previous path. He slowed down, trying not to be noticeable, as they continued talking.

“Is he that kid that--”

“Yeah, the one in the bathroom with Yang.”

“They could at least _whisper_ ,” Zach pulled out his phone. _Well you were right about the bathroom thing._

_I can’t believe you doubted me._

_Can't believe you kissed me in a meth bathroom. I'm disgusted with you._

_Did you make it to class on time?_ Zach fought not to roll his eyes at the suddenly serious tone.

 _Absolutely not. Stumbled around in lovesick stupor until teacher found me and asked for hall pass._ He typed, hoping blatant sarcasm would hide the half-truth.

_Seriously, Zach._

_I got there 5 minutes late and they just assumed I was lost like the other half of the late freshmen._

_A’s and B’s this year, Kornfeld! Or say goodbye to these faces:_

A few seconds after Eugene’s text, an image of Emma and Pesto, curled against one another on Eugene’s couch, appeared.

 _This is emotional blackmail._ Zach punched in frantically. _Haven’t you heard of positive reinforcement?_

_I have. And I think you’re living proof of that method’s failures._

Zach laughed at the screen, shoving the phone into his back pocket as he rounded the corner to the auditorium. “Ouch.”

* * *

Zach broke off from Becky and Keith when they got into an overzealous conversation near the debate table (appropriately placed at least), and wandered between the other club set ups to wait for Eugene.

“Hey!” A smiling Asian kid with hair Zach would never have the courage to try called him over, slapping his hands against the table in front of him  in his excitement. “You want clubs? We got clubs! Join the clubs!”

Zach examined the sign up sheet on the table. “I don’t think I’m cut out for the Asian-American club, sorry.”

“Oh, no worries,” the other guy pointed a thumb at his chest. “I just have that one out because _I’m_ the president. Steven, nice to meet you. I have a whole stack here.”

“Zach,” Zach picked up a small pile of leaflets with a grin.

“With some of the smaller clubs it’s easier for us to condense to one table,” he listed off as Zach flipped through them. “Cooking, LGBT, Foreign Film--”

“Oh.”

“What?” Steven stopped, leaning over the table to peer at the leaflet in Zach’s hand. “LGBT club?” he said, nervously, sitting back down. “Good ‘oh’ or bad ‘oh’?”

“Oh, apparently, my boyfriend is the president,” Zach turned the paper around to wave it, feeling pretty _neutral oh_.

Steven adopted a blank look. “Eugene Yang? He’s the president of…,” Steven stopped, eyes narrowing as he counted down on his fingers. “Five clubs? Maybe six now. And I think he just gave me the Asian American club because he felt charitable. He still _basically_ runs it.”

“Control freak?” Zach tried not to laugh. A little chuckle escaped despite himself.

“Little bit. Still, wow, Yang,” Steven rested his chin on his hand. “Congrats. Wait! Are you the kid that pulled him into the bathroom?”

“That was me,” Zach said, feeling awkward and vaguely proud.

“I've heard stories.”

“Already? All I did was give him a shirt.”

“Only one year into high school and already the freshers are adopting new slang.”

Zach ignored him. “I’ll join the LGBT club, I guess. And the cooking club, since I can't for shit. He’s not president of that one is he?”

“Nope,” Steven laughed. “But don’t worry, Andrew’s great.”

“I think we’ve met,” Zach folded up both leaflets and shoved them into his back pocket. “Are you in all of these?”

“Basically. Loves my extracurriculars.”

“What do I…do?”

“Come to meetings, bring food, help pass out stuff.”

Zach fought to keep a smile on his face. That sounded like _work_ and he said as much out loud.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.” Steven leaned back, crossing his arms. “Plus Eugene’s an expert. _Hi, Eugene_.”

Zach jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder, jostling him slightly.

“ _Hi_ , Steven,” Eugene’s grin was toothy and indulgent. “What did you talk him into?”

“Nothing!” Steven threw his hands up. “I was completely hands off this time.”

“I don’t know, I feel like you mentioned the Asian-American club a few times,” Zach teased.

“Oh, ha,” Steven pursed his lips. “Sign up sheets are over here, chuckles.”

Zach leaned over the clipboards, searching out his picks while Eugene caught up with Steven about their respective summers.

“What’d you sign up for?”

“LGBT and Cooking,” Zach held up two fingers. “You’re looking at a new Zach. Zach the Overachiever.”

“Hm,” Eugene _did_ look, and he looked doubtful. “At least I’ll be able to keep an eye on you.”

Zach held a hand to his chest, turning to Steven, seemingly betrayed. “How little he trusts.”

“And after you gave him a shirt,” Steven somehow managed to look more jilted. Zach suspected it was because he was one of the cutest people he’d ever met.

“An admittedly great shirt,” Eugene made a conceding noise and, at a look from Zach continued. “Probably my _favorite_ shirt.”

Zach leaned over as they walked away. “Heads up, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think the shirt is a shirt.”

Eugene looked at him, a slow, delighted smile creeping across his face. “ _Zach_ , we accidently created a slang.”

“Hell yeah we did,” Zach held out a fist, letting out an embarrassing giggle when Eugene’s met his with force.

“That is...a _power couple_ move.”

“Hell yeah we are.”

* * *

Whatever spike of confidence Zach felt vanished the second they were alone in the car. There was just something about the expectation of having to say the right thing.

He pulled out his phone, wishing he could text Eugene, as stupid as that was with the other boy sitting beside him. Instead he scrolled up, through message after message.

_...you'll be okay._

_You're annoying sometimes. I like you anyway._

_You'll be fine._

“Hm?” Eugene looked over expectantly.

“Nothing,” Zach tucked his phone away, playing with the knobs on the radio until something upbeat he didn't recognize piped through the speakers. They had established fairly early in their exchanges, certainly before broaching the topic of dating, shared musical tastes. He hadn't known at the time they'd been laying out potential deal breakers.

“Is this a date?” Zach stopped tapping his foot as they pulled up to a stoplight. He forced himself to look at Eugene, whose focus was on the road, expression mildly curious.

“What did you tell your parents we were doing?”

“Hanging out,” Zach winced. He'd been trying to forget his mother's disappointed, _Okay_ and the clipped, _Be home by 6_ text sitting in his inbox now. “What about you?”

“Club stuff,” Eugene shrugged. Zach gasped. “What? It's not technically a lie. I'm the club president _hanging out_ with the newest member of one of my clubs.”

“Are you president of the _liar’s_ club, too, Eugene?”

Eugene found a parking spot near the roof and Zach quietly let him navigate until the car was off. Then he turned and raised a brow. Eugene paused in unbuckling his belt. “I _did_ say technically.”

“Not to showcase my inexperience but aren’t dates usually,” Zach circled a hand in the air as they walked around the car to meet. “Movies, dinner, fun activity?”

“Shopping’s a fun activity.”

“I shop with Keith and Becky,” Zach folded his arms. “And my sister. I’m pretty sure none of them would call it a date.”

“Kelsey and I used to go shopping, and it was definitely a date.” Eugene looked towards the mall, clearly discomfited. “But neither of us had our provisional yet so…,”

“What I’m hearing is,” Zach rescued him. “I’m taking _you_ out on a date today.”

Eugene shrugged, a hopeful expression on his face.

“I expect frozen yogurt and roller skating as recompense,” Zach said, setting off towards the doors.

* * *

Zach left the mall with two bags of jeans he hadn’t entirely hated and a sizable chunk of his summer spending money depleted. Rounding the corner to his house too close to six for comfort, Eugene pulled over.

“Do I need to walk you to the door?”

Zach pulled his bags into his lap and opened the door. “Only if you want to get stuck playing twenty questions over dinner.” Eugene looked uncomfortable. “Seriously, it’s fine, much as I’d like to use you as a human shield.”

Zach had one foot out before he was tugged back in by the elbow. Eugene’s lips smashed against the side of his temple, startling and remarkably awkward. Zach leaned away to stare up at him sideways.

“Ow,” Zach grumbled, aiming for dignified and landing somewhere close to indignant. He checked his watch and pursed his brow with an annoyed huff.

“Sorry,” Eugene stared straight ahead, hands back on the wheel and obviously embarrassed.  

“Shut up, shut up, we have, like, two minutes,” Zach closed the door to the car and leaned across the center console, insanely glad for the bag full of crinkly paper in his lap if it was about to distract _in any way_ from how inexperienced he was at this.

“What--?” Eugene didn’t say anything else and Zach wasn’t sure what expression he was making as he sealed their lips together.

Zach was too busy thinking to enjoy himself. Was he supposed to open his eyes? Would that be weird? At what point should he open his mouth? Wait, was opening his mouth even a _thing_ ? He knew there was _something_ with tongues but how did one...start that? Eugene’s hand had moved to his neck, should _he_ touch something? He really wanted to touch Eugene’s hair...

Zach’s watch beeped

“Oh shit!” He scrambled back, gathering his bag and opening the door again. After a moment’s thought, he leaned forward and pecked Eugene on the cheek. “Okay, bye! Bye!”

“Good--”

He assumed the rest was _night_ behind the slammed door, but Zach had to run around the corner to get to his house and he wasn’t risking it. Good thing too, his dad was standing at the end of the driveway, eyes on his own watch and staring past Zach with unmasked curiosity.

“Three minutes past curfew, buddy!” His dad didn’t have a voice that dared Zach to correct him like his mom did, but he gave a _mean_ eyebrow.

“I know, sorry!” Zach slid past him, dropping his bag inside the door and taking off his shoes.

“First day of school and you’re already ditching us for friends,” his dad closed the door behind them. “That’s gotta be a good sign.”

“Eugene knows a lot of people,” was as much ground as Zach was willing to give.

“See? Told you that dogsitting job was a good idea. How were classes?”

Zach stood up, taking some time to answer. “Good. Joined some clubs.”

“Sports?”  His dad raised an eyebrow, clearly teasing.

“I _did_ get invited to be a cheerleader.” Zach said, leading the way into the kitchen.

“Not the mascot? They clearly don’t see your potential!”

Zach shot him a flat look. “I joined cooking club, actually. And, uh, LGBT.” The last he said quickly and low enough that his father could pretend he hadn’t heard it, if it made him uncomfortable.

“Well, that’s good,” Zach was pushed forward as his dad slapped his back a little harder than he probably meant. “Finally start pulling your weight around the house.”

He forced a smile. Truthfully, he wanted to be back in Eugene’s car, or at least allowed to send him a quick text, but a quelling look from his mother had him shoving his phone back in his pant’s pocket.

His parents had ordered from his favorite Thai restaurant, so there was _that_ at least. He’d never say it to their faces, but they were both awful in the kitchen in distinct ways from which he was sure his palette would never recover. Besides, he was pretty sure it went without saying in the Kornfeld household.

Taking his fruit smoothie on the back porch, he finally pulled out his phone.

_Was your first kiss that anxiety inducing?_

_I think mine was actually worse because I was worried about what to do with breasts._

Zach tried not to spit as he laughed. _Oh my God._

_Stop freaking out. It was fine lol_

_I think you meant to type, ‘Excellent’, ‘Above Average’, ‘Literally the stuff they write books about’_

Zach’s knee bounced a jerky rhythm as he sucked down the rest of his drink. He was fighting off a massive wave of brain freeze when the next text from Eugene came.

 _Fireworks. Actual fireworks in my head._ Then another. _Mostly because you wouldn’t let me fucking breathe._

_I don’t remember promising you oxygen when I agreed to date you. All that’s on you and Mother Nature._

_Zach, I really like you._

Oh shit. Zach’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard. They’d said it before, sort of, and Zach had nothing against catch-and-return phrases as a rule. He considered if there was anything else he could say that might make him seem cooler before he remembered this was the same guy who’d held his clammy hand for thirty minutes of an episode of his favorite (honestly _cheesy_ ) show so who was Eugene to judge?

 _I like you too._ He typed, tacking on, for good measure: _Please take this as an invitation to teach me how to kiss._

The amount of emojis that followed, reacting to this, astounded him.

_Oh, you bet._


	2. Chapter 2

Zach sat cross legged in the center of Eugene’s bed and stared at three pamphlets laid out in front of him.

“Well?” Eugene uncrossed his arms to huff.

“I can’t get into Pomona.” Zach flipped the blue paper to the far right onto its front.

“You _absolutely_ can,” Eugene crawled onto the bed, mirroring Zach’s position and flipping the pamphlet back over.

“It’s got a _nine_ _percent_ acceptance rate.”

“I’ve spent three years padding your scholarly resume. As long as you don’t spend next year goofing off while I’m at one of these _excellent_ testaments to our educational system, you should be fine.”

Zach swallowed around the disappointment that chased every statement Eugene made about leaving school, his tone more biting than he intended when he spoke. “Oh was that _you_ going to my club meetings and acing my classes? Well, _thanks_!”

“ _Eugene_ ,” Eugene whined in a clear imitation of Zach. “Help me with this! I don’t understand basic chemistry!”

“First, _Andrew_ walked me through chem,” Zach held up a finger to forestall any other taunts thrown in his direction. “Second...you see what I mean? What am I going to do without my smarter friends, my _very smart_ boyfriend, to help me?”

“You’ll live,” Eugene awkwardly unwound a foot to poke him in the stomach. Zach fell over with the appropriate amount of flair. “Or you’ll call me.”

Zach got comfortable on his side, resting his chin on his hand to examine the other two pamphlets. USC and CalArts; he’d have better luck with those at least. That was even _if_ he and Eugene were still together, which was...also something they hadn't talked about.

Eugene held out a hand to stow away all three. Knowing Eugene the conversation was only shelved for later, but Zach was happy to be done with it. He still hadn’t wrapped his head around the idea of a year at high school without Eugene despite its fast approach. Seeing the colleges he’d applied to laid out like that made the six months between now and June seem much shorter.

“Adam is hosting a party at his place,” Eugene said, seeming to sense the direction his thoughts had turned. “Using his parent’s heated pool for one last bash before New York.”

“Are we going?”

“Of course we are, why wouldn't we?”

“The last time I went to a party at Adam's house,” Zach said, recalling the summer between his Freshman and Sophomore year in brief flashes of amped up hormones and mild regret. “I kissed Ned, ruined a perfectly good stove, got locked in a closet for an hour--"

“Fifteen minutes, tops.”

“ _And_ nearly drowned,” Zach finished.

“Well,” Eugene said waspishly, “I told you not to play Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

“With _Kelsey_. I thought Ned was safe!”

Eugene looked fondly exasperated. “Babe, he’s way too competitive to lose at a game with stakes as low as that.”

“Well I know that _now_ ,” Zach rolled onto his back, sprawled sideways across the bed. “Do you think Andrew and Steven actually kissed?”

“Question of the century,” Eugene muttered, pulling out his phone and stretching out lengthwise until his chin was planted firmly under Zach’s sternum. He reached his arms across Zach’s ribs to type out whatever message he was sending, his next sentence slightly muffled by the fabric of Zach's shirt. “Andrew’s always said no but they _did_ start hanging out after that.”

“Yeah but not _hanging out_ ,” Zach stared down, hoping the last two words carried the appropriate,  _significant_ weight.

“No, I don't think so,” Eugene flipped his phone over on the pillow. “Sucks to be them.”

Zach arched his back, leaning down slightly to kiss Eugene's smirk as it threatened to blossom into a smile. He liked to think he'd gotten very good at kissing over the span of two and a half years. Considering he’d only had one boyfriend to practice with (and a Ned who he definitely wasn't counting), he was probably just good at kissing _Eugene_ , specifically. The most important takeaway from this line of logic, he reasoned, was that he planned to keep kissing only Eugene and was, therefore an _excellent_ kisser.

Still... _still_ , he thought Eugene might probably be better. He had a focus Zach couldn't match no matter how he'd tried (and they’d happily tried). Not that Zach had any complaints. He made an embarrassing noise as his breath caught and Eugene dove into the kiss to chase after it.

Zach felt a light push on his shoulders and he fell back with a small exhale.  When he blinked, Eugene was there above him. “Hi,” he chuckled, preparing to be kissed again.

A knock from the door had him baring his teeth in a wince, eyes squeezed shut. He nearly burst out laughing when he opened an eye to see Eugene doing the same.

“Eugene?” The voice of Eugene's mother called from underneath the door frame.

Eugene awkwardly slid off of Zach and, further, off the bed. He was as graceful about it as always, but Zach had been with him long enough to know that expression and _that_ was embarrassment. He steeled himself before opening his door.

Zach only caught snatches of the conversation ( _Told you not to close this door...dinner…)_ as he paid very close attention to the duvet while somehow pretending to _not_ be sitting on it. Eugene's mom didn't dislike Zach (he hoped) but she had stopped actively trying to get to know him since the beginning of Eugene's Junior year when she confiscated Eugene's phone before he could erase...anything. According to Eugene she’d never discussed it with him either, which he had considered a small blessing. Eugene's father, by comparison, had sat both of them down for a somewhat pointed sex talk.

Eventually, Eugene's mom smiled past Eugene at Zach, gave a little wave and disappeared back down the steps. Eugene almost closed his door before seeming to remember himself with a hushed curse. He left it open by only a crack, walking back to the bed looking quietly satisfied.

“You _rebel_ ,” Zach teased, glad he sounded put together. Eugene sat on the edge of the bed, shooting him a weak glower. “Trouble?”

“Kind of,” Eugene rubbed lightly at the base of his neck. “Family dinner.”

Zach winced, making his way to sit beside Eugene. “Open invitation from my parents? Well as long as you spend the night in the guest room.”

Zach's own parents had also sat them down for The Talk, the theme of which had been: _Don’t._ There had been subcategories such as, _We love you_ and _Please wait!_ But the message it circled back to had primarily been...just don’t.

...it hadn't _worked_ , but Eugene said he'd found the concern deeply touching. The boys had at least done fairly well in taking things slowly, whether by accident, guilt, or adult supervision.

“I'll be okay,” Eugene swayed to the right as Zach pressed against his side.

"You sure? My sister will totally cover for you if you want to sneak into my room.”

“You actually _are_ a rebel,” Eugene nudged him with an elbow.

“You bought me that James Dean hair gel for my birthday, I'm leaning in.”

Eugene snorted. “See? I knew you would have rocked a leather jacket.”

* * *

Zach wasn’t selfless enough to text Eugene something as charitable as _You should go wherever will make you happiest!_ That was a much more Eugene thing to say and his boyfriend would see through it in half a second. He thought a long time about what he wanted to say. They’d always been better, or at least more honest, on the phone.

 _Hope dinner isn’t going terribly._ He tapped the sides of his phone in an irregular beat. _You’ll do well wherever you decide to go but I don’t think you should choose based on what I like._

Eugene didn’t respond for two hours and what he said surprised Zach for entirely the wrong reasons.

_My sister’s moving to Paris. Some work thing._

Zach’s computer chair wobbled dangerously from its tilted position to the floor, nearly depositing Zach from it. “Holy shit…,” he breathed, then typed, _Holy shit. By herself?_

_Mom’s going._

Zach stared at the _Typing…_ symbol with weighted impatience until he couldn’t stand the space between texts any longer. He hit call and waited for Eugene to answer.

“Thanks,” Eugene sounded out of breath when he answered. “I couldn’t really figure out what to say.”

“Why didn’t you just—nevermind, are you okay?”

“I think my parents are getting a divorce,” Eugene said on an exhale. “Which isn’t surprising but…”

“Not okay, I get it,” Zach pushed his chair back and forth. Eugene often joked about his parents marriage, icy and tumultuous by turns, but there was joking and there was…well, moving to Paris. Zach hadn’t ever known what to say about the Yangs, especially when held next to Zach’s functional own. Especially now.

“There are good art schools in Paris.”

“I’m not going to Paris, Zach,” Eugene sounded tired. “Even if I wanted to, there’s so many more hurdles.”

“That’s never stopped you.”

“Do you _want_ me to leave the country?”

“No,” Zach said immediately. “I don’t, I just…,” he trailed off with a pathetic, uncertain noise.

“ _What_?”

“Can we talk about how you’re feeling right now? I think you’re deflecting.”

“I didn’t bring up college,” Eugene ground out. Zach thought it was a fair point but stayed quiet. After a stretch of silence Eugene sighed. “Why shouldn’t I make my final decision based on your preference?”

Zach held the phone away from his ear, chuckling nervously. “What if I don’t want to go to _any_ of them?”

Eugene was suspiciously quiet. Zach wondered if the thought had never occurred to him. “You’ll still have to visit.”

“But _you’ll_ have to live there.”

He could _picture_ Eugene’s teeth grinding behind his pursed lips before he said, “Pomona then.”

“Pomona?”

“Pomona,” Eugene sounded surer. “Better start studying now.”

* * *

“You going to Adam’s party?” Steven caught up with Zach on the way back from their near overlapping lunch break at the Pro Photo Factory (a job Steven had helped him score over Winter break). He still had pizza sauce at the corner of his mouth.

“Eugene says I am,” Zach frowned at the last of his slushee. “It’s not until Spring Break, why is everyone even talking about it?”

“Because the last one was _epic_ ,” Steven said as though it were obvious.

“I’m sorry, do you remember the last party, Steven?”

“I remember you and Eugene’s Truth or Dare battle, and Kelsey making you top the underwater cheerleading pyramid. I think Niki set something on fire?”

“That was me, actually,” Zach threw his drink into the trash. “Didn’t you kiss Andrew?”

Steven stared at him flatly. “I got locked in a bedroom with him for seven minutes and he was a perfect gentleman.”

“So, he kissed you without tongue, got it.”

“He didn’t kiss me _at_ _all_ , you pervert.”

“Huh,” Zach shrugged into his work polo as they rounded the corner away from the food court. “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Keith, decked in a Donahoo’s Golden Chicken uniform and smelling like fried food, draped a hand over Zach’s head. Honestly the boy grew a solid foot every semester.

“Nothing,” Steven waved them off, flustered. “Don’t you have to go to work? _I_ have to go to work.”

“ _What’s_ weird?” Keith pressed.

“Andrew never kissed Steven,” Zach reached up to forcibly remove Keith’s hand. “Apparently.”

Keith’s mouth formed a silent _oh_ of understanding. “Breaking the oath of party games everywhere.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it really speaks ill of my character that I didn’t _follow the rules_ of Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Steven rolled his eyes, turning his full focus onto his name badge as mall goers weaved around their small cluster.

“Probably for the best,” Zach crossed his arms with a lengthy, put upon sigh. “All the best culinary schools are out of the state. Or the country.”

Steven’s movements slowed slightly, eyes slipping up and pinning Zach accusingly. “Andrew’s moving?” Zach shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“Lim! Kornfeld!” Their manager shouted from the glass doorframe of the Pro Photo. He pointed at his watch, chuckling as Steven rushed across the busy thoroughfare.

“I didn’t know Andrew was going to school out of state.”

“Neither do I,” Zach admitted.

“Oh, you’re _mean_.”

“Just lashing out,” Zach scratched the back of his neck. Keith was staring at him expectantly, but so was his manager. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“You’d better,” Keith shoved his shoulder. “That’s an _ominous_ note to leave a conversation on, friend. And tell Steven that Andrew hasn’t, like, _confided_ in you or something.” Keith yelled when Zach was halfway across the thoroughfare.

“I will do no such thing,” Zach tossed over his shoulder. “I’m matchmaking!”

Zach didn’t speak with Keith again until an hour after his shift, when Keith was finally freed from his own corporate world woes and seated across from him at the food court. He went over what happened with Eugene, skimming over the reason why his mother would decide to go to Paris (divorce seemed pretty private), while Keith spent a small portion of his paycheck back on a basket of Donahoo’s. 

“That sucks,” Keith said around a mouthful. He tilted the basket towards Zach and Zach picked at some of the fried bits.

“Is it wrong that I just want him to fail every class and stay an extra year with me?” Zach leaned his chin on the heel of a palm.

“Yes,” Keith laughed. “It’s nuts. But that’s also, like, what long term dating and codependency does to an otherwise healthy brain.”

“We’re not codependent,” Zach set his hands on the table. “We’re beneficially interdependent, you heathen.”

“Whatever,” Keith licked the tip of his thumb. “I just meant your parents had to change your phone plan because you two start texting as soon as you’re out of one another’s eye sight. You’re in _four_ of the same clubs, and you still think dating is necessary after all of that time together. It’s super cute but admit it, you’re Ned and Ariel with added sarcasm.”

Zach slumped down in his seat. Ned was the one who’d taught him what _beneficial interdepence_ meant so he didn’t feel he had a leg to stand on.

“So,” Keith said, more serious now. “It sucks he’ll be gone next year. It sucks extra hard that he may not be in the state.”

“Well,” Zach took in a breath, straightening again. “He _said_ he wasn’t going to Paris.”

“There’s that,” Keith balled up the remains of paper in his basket. “What about you?”

Zach winced. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about what he wanted to do at the end of his senior year. This was primarily because he had yet to figure out what exactly that was. Eugene seemed to think he was comfortable following him to college, which was... _a_ plan, at least. They were all great colleges and Zach’s parents would be thrilled.

“I don’t know,” he admitted that much. “How about you...and Becky?” He tacked the last on when Keith seemed to catch the deflection. Keith still looked skeptical but he wasn’t going to pass up a chance to talk about the supposedly brain-rotting love of his own life. Zach considered this battle won. He sat back and pointedly did not think about his future as Keith talked about his own.

* * *

Keith had been right; Zach _was_ terrible at matchmaking. The thought came to him two weeks later as Andrew pointedly ignored him in Cooking Club. Zach approached him after, nervous grin in place.

“Hey buddy,” Zach watched Andrew put away a few bowls before he seemed to realize Zach was standing there.

“Hey Zach,” Andrew bent under the cabinet with a sigh. “You going to help me or stare?”

“I do like watching your arms move,” Zach said, dropping his backpack on the floor and walking around to assist anyway.

“Eugene's been an incredibly bad influence.”

“Oh no, I was always like this.” They worked in tandem until the front of the room was tidier. Andrew stared between the leftover sauce and the cleaning supply closet before deciding,  _Neither,_ and walking around the table in the opposite direction.

“Not like Steven to miss a club,” Zach followed. “You two fighting?”

“Cut the crap, Kornfeld. You told him I was going to school in Lichtenstein?”

“Actually I didn't tell him anything but it’s wild that he made that leap.”

“He wasn't far off,” Andrew fell into a seat by the window, looking defeated. “I got accepted into the Culinary Arts Academy. It's in Switzerland.”

Zach slid into a chair across from him. “Seriously? I was just dicking around but...congrats, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

Zach should have probably shut up. Eugene would have shut up. “I mean, were you _going_ to tell him?”

“I don’t have to tell him everything,” Andrew said in the snappish delivery of something repeated once too often. “He’s my friend, we’re not dating.”

“I’m not dating Keith,” Zach pointed out. “I would have told Keith.”

“You tell everyone everything whether they want to hear it or not.”

Zach’s wince was involuntary. “Hey, were you this much of a dick to Steven? Because I’d stay the fuck away from you too, cool guy.”

“Sorry, that was shitty,” Andrew looked tired in a way Zach was familiar with. Andrew and Eugene got angry in similar ways; probably knew how to avoid that anger too. Zach waved the apology away, forgiveness granted with a half-smile, and Andrew let out a small breath. “Hell I might not even go. Might take a gap year and tour around South Korea with Eugene.”

“...Oh?” Zach tried to regulate his tone. “South Korea?”

Andrew’s lips twitched then dropped into a frown. “I figured you and Eugene tell each other everything so…”

 _Obviously not_ , Zach wanted to say because a significant part of him was feeling childish and hurt. “It’s not a big deal, Andrew.”

“We were throwing ideas around, he probably hasn’t thought about it since.”

“Andrew,” Zach hated how he sounded when he got mad, like a beleaguered cat. “If you keep talking about it? I’m going to tell him you called me annoying.”

“I didn’t exactly—”

“And _yelled_ at me.”

“Jesus, fine, sorry,” Andrew held up his hands. “I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“Why don’t you worry about yourself? Go apologize to Steven, you dickhead.”

Andrew looked like he wanted to say something but, whether it was the threat of Eugene or genuine regret over whatever had gone down between Steven and himself, he kept quiet.

“He’ll probably be in the A/V room if he’s hiding from you,” Zach offered, feeling helpful. “It’s where I hide from Eugene when I know he’s going to try to rope people into volunteering.”

“I’m not going to apologize for not telling him,” Andrew made it all the way to the door before he spoke. “But some of the other stuff I said, yeah…”

“Whatever, man, I’m not your mom.” Zach felt his eyebrows draw together. Andrew ducked out of the room rolling his eyes. “Switzerland, _my God_.”

* * *

Zach wasn’t going to ask about it, he’d decided. He thought about sending a text, something casual like: _So, Andrew says Southern K’s on the table?_ He’d stared at the question mark long enough for the screen to go dark before he deleted the whole thing. If Eugene wasn’t going to Paris, with his family, why would he go to South Korea, alone? It was ridiculous.

This decision proved particularly hellish only a few weeks later, when Eugene and he, bundled up in a lighter jacket against the February chill invited him out for ‘a surprise’.  
  
"And you're sure you can't tell me at Fiesta Mexicana?" Zach folded his knees up against the dashboard, folding up into his seat. "I could _kill_ some nachos."  
  
"More like the cheese would kill you." Eugene shot him a look. Zach sank further. "Get your shoes on the ground. That's how people lose feet. I saw a documentary about it."  
  
"You saw a Mythbusters episode," Zach rolled his eyes, dropping his knees and sitting up regardless. "And I'm still not convinced you're not driving me somewhere to murder me."  
  
"If I were going to murder you I wouldn't be wearing a wool jacket and a _silk_ scarf, it’s impossible to get blood out of these."  
  
"Gross."  
  
" _And_ I wouldn't have taken the freaking Corolla because I love my dad but his car totally screams serial killer. Right under blue van and hearse."  
  
"All fair points," Zach smiled in spite of his anxiety. "Where _are_ we going? You've been driving for," he checked his watch, "thirty minutes."  
  
"I told you it's a surprise."  
  
"I hate surprises."  
  
"You love surprises," Eugene took a hand off the wheel to hold up a finger, then another, "What you hate is waiting because you have the patience of a pound puppy." His fingers curled in together to form an _O_ as he mouthed ' _None'_.  
  
"I'm telling Pesto."  
  
"I know this about him and I love him." Eugene grinned at the road ahead, letting his hand fall to Zach's knee.  
  
Zach practically shoved his mouth into the palm of his hand so his next words were muffled and embarrassed. "I'm sure he appreciates your patience with his impatience."  
  
When they pulled up to the animal shelter ten minutes later, all impatient thoughts of South Korea flew from Zach's mind.  
  
"Oh my god _pound puppy_ ," Zach pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. Eugene circled around the car to meet him at the front door. "You told me!"  
  
"Actually," Eugene waved at the woman behind the counter sorting through name badges. "We're volunteering with the cats today."  
  
Zach pulled his jacket in tighter, bouncing in place. "Seriously?"

Eugene shrugged, taking the cheap piece of plastic with his name and pinning it to his chest. “You've been acting weird so I thought...cats.”

“We've got a new one in named Finnegan,” the woman said, handing Zach his own tag. “He’s such a sweetheart.”

“ _Finnegan_ ,” Zach grabbed Eugene's elbow, pulling him towards the back. “I dont think I'm exaggerating when I say this is the best thought you've ever had.”

* * *

"My cat’s name was Gumbo,” Zach said, letting the tabby crawl over his knee and butt into the side of Eugene's leg.

“I remember,” Eugene scratched behind Finnegan’s ears with an absent mindedness that Zach envied. Animals warmed up quickly to Eugene wherever they went.

“It was before I met you so I thought…,” Zach trailed off with a shrug. “I probably wouldn't have met you if it weren't for losing Gumbo.”

“How do you figure that,” Eugene chuckled.

“I told my parents I didn't want another cat. They thought I was depressed. Made me pet sit.”

"You might have been," Eugene laid on his side and another black cat tackled his shoulder. "I can't imagine how I'd feel losing Emma."

"Or Pesto?"

"Pesto's going to live forever."

"Oh, undoubtedly," Zach pulled a surprisingly compliant Finnegan into his lap. "My point was no summer job, no text chain, no GeneticKorn."

"Honestly, that is the _worst_ couple portmanteau," Eugene bared his teeth at a spot on the floor.

"Better than YangFeld," Zach parried with his favorite counter. "Or ZaGene."

Eugene frowned harder, then was forced to smile as the black cat (Darby, Zach now remembered) that had wound its way down his arm attempted to crawl under his shirt. "I would have met you."

"You sound very confident."

"Same school," Eugene shrugged, fishing Darby from under his shirt and scratching under his chin.

"Different years."

"I'd have noticed you."

Zach shot him an incredulous look, but Eugene ignored him entirely to focus on the cat. "You believe that?"

It was probably a dumb question. Eugene believed in a lot of things that Zach raised an eyebrow at; past lives, spending more than thirty dollars on a shirt, ghosts (hell, he had inherited the Paranormal Club from Ryan Bergara last year). Fate was probably in there somewhere.

It still surprised him when Eugene looked at him with the same easy smile he wore every time he passed a test and said, "I believe that."

* * *

"I think Andrew likes me."  
  
Zach took his time unlocking and opening the cabinet behind the Pro Photo Factory. He set the Valentine's Day promotional materials against one elbow and handed a separate stack to Steven. Finally he looked at the other boy.  
  
"Yes. Duh."  
  
Steven released a frustrated breath, dropping his stack of papers.  
  
"Well what do you want me to say?" Zach let the cabinet door swing shut and watched Steven squat to clean up his own mess. "I told you so? _Everyone_ told you so, again and again?"  
  
Steven stood, thumbing the edge of the papers back and forth, the sound oddly soothing. "Maybe I knew," he pressed his lips so tightly the corners turned down. Zach locked the cabinet, motioned for him to continue. "I just thought, like, you know how if you don't talk about something you can put off thinking about it. Or maybe if you try not to think about it for long enough you just, well, never talk about it? And then it's...not there."  
  
_Yes_. Zach wanted to shout, because he'd had a lot of practice with that very recently. Instead he said, "You're older and smarter than I am so I _know_ you're not that stupid, Steven."  
  
"Andrew's a really good friend. I just didn't want things to change," Steven muttered to the papers in his hands. "But if he's leaving, I guess they were going to anyway."  
  
Zach schooled his expression. This was all too close to his own situation for comfort. At his extended silence, Steven shot him a worried look, likely concerned he'd said something stupid.  
  
Zach attempted to sound casual. "Do you like him?"  
  
"Don't know," Steven admitted. "I spent three and a half years not thinking about it remember?"  
  
"Probably want to spend some time thinking about it now then," Zach tapped the bottom of Steven's hands, unsettling his papers and sending a few to the floor again. "Especially before Valentine's Day."

* * *

"Happy Valentine's Day, you grouch."  
  
Zach slid a box across the counter in Eugene's direction. His parents were out on one of their few scheduled dates, leaving the two of them to 'babysit' Stephi who was now definitely old enough to look after herself and loud enough to complain about as much. She spent most of the afternoon so far in her room, only wandering out to grab more snacks.  
  
"That Valentine's Day is a farce built up around our consumerist need to buy another's love does not reflect poorly on _me_ , Zachary, but our society," he opened the Styrofoam tray. "What is this? Takeout sushi?"  
  
"Andrew and Steven swear it's the best in town," Zach pitched his voice to imitate Steven. "Nay! The world!"  
  
"Well, far be it for me to doubt their taste." Eugene examined one of the pieces with a skeptic's gaze, despite his words. "Are they out tonight?"  
  
"Don't know. Why?"  
  
"Well, it would mean they're together."  
  
"Crassly buying one another's affection?" Zach popped a piece of sushi in his mouth and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if they're dating and, at this point, I'm afraid to ask."  
  
A thin arm snaked under his own, stealing a spring roll from his tray.  
  
"Yes, Stephi," Zach intoned, concentrating on a small piece of ginger between the tips of his chopsticks. "You _can_ have one of my spring rolls."  
  
"Thanks," she said from somewhere behind him, mouth full. "Sup, Eugene."  
  
"I got you your own _whole meal_ , you sustenance-devouring monster," Zach motioned to the end of the counter and Stephi descended like an unleashed jack-in-the-box (awkward gangliness included). "Happy Valentine's Day."  
  
"Did you...," Eugene paused between rolls, chopsticks tapping against the edge of his tray. He cast a quick glance at Stephi before continuing. "Did you actually want to do something? Like, are you really upset we didn't go out?"  
  
Zach snorted. "We've never gone out for Valentine's Day."  
  
"I know but," Eugene set his chopsticks down and, seeming to think better of it, picked them up again. "What if I'm in a different city this time next year? A different part of the state?"  
  
_What if you're in another country?_ Zach forced himself to eat another piece of sushi to keep himself from voicing the thought.  
  
"I thought you guys mostly dated on the phone," Stephi laughed around her third spring roll.  
  
"We're not that bad," Eugene seemed to find this funny too. "Not after the first two months, at least."  
  
"From totally different time zones, too," Zach added.  
  
He was giving him every opportunity. If Eugene had nothing to say to _that_...  
  
"So, you," she grinned, hands on the table to push herself forward, "lived in one another's pockets?"  
  
"Okay, I need to stop letting you hang out with my friends." Zach flicked a piece of rice at her, which she took as her cue to leave. He waited until he heard the sound of a door to speak again. "Trashy television, take out, sex if we're lucky. I like our Valentine's Day."  
  
"You just described all of our dates," Eugene grinned as he chewed, absurdly endearing. He could be reserved outside of their circle of friends, but those teeth were made for smiling. "But I guess you'd complain more if you hated it."  
  
"I would _definitely_ complain," Zach sat back to cross his arms and motioned with his chin towards the sushi. "You know this still counts as buying your affection, right?"  
  
"My love is not this cheap, babe," Eugene closed his tray with a withering look.  
  
"It is the best in town though," Zach pitched his voice higher once more, ignoring the beginnings of a laugh from Eugene. "Nay! The world."  
  
"Oh my gosh, shut up," Eugene dragged the upper half of his body across the table, cutting off whatever witty comeback Zach surely would have thought up with the lightest kiss. It was awkward between both of their laughter and the counter between them, and tasted overwhelmingly of soy sauce. Zach had the slightly giddy thought that Eugene was the best kisser in town, _nay_ , the world, and how lucky did that make him on Valentine's Day? Zach could see the dust of red across his cheeks when they broke apart; could feel his own heat in response.  
  
"Happy Valentine's Day."

* * *

Adam Bianchi lived in a three story, five bedroom that looked like the luxury houses in Walnut that Zach and Stephi used to joke about moving to, and dwarfed their suburban neighbors in a gaudy, ostentatious way.  
  
Eugene loved it, of course.  
  
They rode over with Ella and Hannah, and spent half of the car ride talking to one another about Steven and Andrew, who had turned down coming with them to drive over together later.  
  
Ariel was on the bottom step of the ornate, winding stairway just inside the wide double doors nursing a bottle of Vitamin water. Eugene threw a smile her way and swung a right towards the crowd of people milling in the kitchen. Zach made a beeline straight to her.  
  
"First Bianchi party?" Zach offered a hand to help her off the stairs.  
  
"This place is fucking huge," she teetered towards him before settling back on her heels.  
  
"Wait til you see the pool. It's like a private island," he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Where's Ned?"  
  
"Picking up booze from his cousin in Chino," she slid past him, following Eugene's trek. "Show me around?"  
  
Zach managed to get halfway through a tour of the second floor (more reacquainting himself than actually showing Ariel around) before he was promptly abandoned as Becky entered the foyer below.  
  
Zach met Keith at the bottom of the stairs with an awkward half-hug. "Ain't no party like a Bianchi party hey, ho," Keith sing-songed.  
  
Zach did a shimmy on the last step that earned him a look of mixed fondness and resignation from Eugene as he exited the kitchen to help distribute drinks.  
  
"As long as there are no incidents like last time," Keith leaned against the rail of the stairs, putting his face lower than Zach's but distinctly _up in it_. "Which there won't be," his eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Because you and Eugene have talked about college and all the anxieties contained therein..."  
  
"Uh," Zach grabbed a beer from the cooler Ella was helping Ned carry to the kitchen. Hannah reached over to slap his hand playfully and he pulled away to protect the bottle with a wounded expression.  
  
"Zach," Keith's tone held a warning. He drew back for a moment, presumably to cast a glance to where Eugene was. Zach couldn't clock the kitchen from his position. "You _did_ talk to him about it?"  
  
"It hasn't really come up."  
  
"Oh, bullshit!" Keith leaned back in, looking decidedly judgmental for Zach's taste. That was a look far better suited to Eugene. "It _has_ to have come up. You're avoiding it. Which is...," his brow furrowed. "Weird. You guys seem so chill."  
  
"We are chill. So we don't need to talk about it, right?" Zach lowered his voice and, after a narrowed-eyed moment, Keith appeared to acquiesce with a sigh.  
  
"It'll be fine," Zach reassured his friend. "It can't be as bad as last time."

* * *

Here was what was going to happen, Keith thought, the moment Zach walked away from him, beer dangling loosely between his fingers.  
  
Zach was going to have drink after drink, and his tiny little brain was going to hyper focus on the conversation they'd just had (specifically the part about _anxieties),_ and all that 'chill' was going to explode in a wave of drunken, frosty anger that would put a Vulcan to shame. Keith had several options in front of him, as to what he could do about that now.  
  
But, all things considered, Zach having put off talking to Eugene for as long as he had, having just turned seventeen, and the fact that he came here to have a _good_ time...he wasn't feeling overly charitable.  
  
"What's up?" Becky slid under his arm, but Keith was focused on the way Zach hesitated before he slid past Eugene to stand beside Ella.  
  
"It can't be as bad as last time."  
  
"What?" she laughed up at him, lightly tapping the bottom of his chin with the tips of her fingers and dragging his attention down.  
  
"I said Zach's right. It _can't_ be as bad as last time. Kelsey graduated last year at least."  
  
Becky stared into the kitchen, eyes narrowing when they landed on Zach. And, because she was a good friend, and inarguably a better person than Keith, said: "I'll water down his drinks if you distract him."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"I dare Eugene to lick Keith's ears," Hannah said around the lip of her cup. Beside her, Ella snorted up a large gulp of her own drink and Zach reached over to help lift her arms until her airway cleared.

Keith, meanwhile, was raising hell.

"That's non-consensual!" Keith held out a finger in protest. More quietly he whined to Becky, who was too busy laughing to _really_ care. "And my ears are very sensitive."

Eugene held up his own hands. "House rules from last time, right Adam? Only if all parties agree in dares where my good bits have to touch someone elses' good bits," Hannah rushed to speak but he continued over her, "I'm going to include my fucking tongue as a good bit, Hannah."

"Hard same," Zach said, unapologetic. "Why didn't you just dare Keith to lick Eugene?"

"Don't yuck my yum, Zach. Fine..."

Eugene looked triumphant. "If you can't think of a sufficient dare, I'll happily switch to truth."

Hannah's expression slipped into something like boredom. "Fine. What is the weirdest thing you've done for Zach?"

Eugene, an expert of skirting the rules of Truth or Dare, raised his eyebrows. " _For_ Zach?"

"No, wait, with!"

"Too late, you said for," Eugene placed a hand under his chin. "Hm...oh! I made my family drive a half hour out of our way when we were visiting relatives in Philadelphia so I could record a video of skaters at the FDR Skatepark."

"That wasn't weird!" Zach pointed his drink accusingly. "It was cool!"

"It was a little weird!" Eugene laughed.

Hannah ceded the floor to Andrew and Keith took the opportunity to lean across Ariel and Ned, gaze boring into Zach. "I know what you're thinking. Don't be dramatic."

"I'm chill," Zach settled himself beside Ariel, pulling out his phone as casually as possible to type out, _You could have just said you didn’t want to do it, instead of lying about it liar liar liar liar liar li_

Zach’s hand scrambled after his phone as Keith snatched it from his hand. “You’ll thank me," Keith muttered around his beer.

Zach held out his hand and opened his mouth to take back _his_ property when, "Zach."

He jolted at the sound of Steven calling his name. The other boy had his hands cupped around his mouth, sat on the back of one of the couches next to Andrew, looking at him expectantly. He lowered his arms to speak at a lower volume.

"Truth or dare, dude."

Zach narrowed his eyes at the bottom of his third beer. “ _Truth_."

"What's the most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?"

Zach's eye flicked across the circle at Eugene before he, haltingly and with less blushing as the story went on, told them all about the time his parents had walked into his room while he had his head in Eugene's lap. Most of them had heard the story last year, when it happened, but they made appropriate 'oo' noises anyway. Zach rolled the bottle between his hands and pretended to consider his own pick.

"Eugene,” he kept his eyes on the label of his beer, peeling from the heat and friction of his hands. “Truth or dare?”

Beside him, Ariel stilled, lips poised against the plastic rim of her wine. He heard her lean over to Ned and whisper something about the pool before sliding in front of Zach and away from the group.

"Me?" Eugene rocked his cup back and forth with his front teeth before dropping it into his hands. "Hm, truth."

"Tell me something you don’t want me to know."

"All right, you’re on your own," Keith pushed away from the wall with a grunt, sliding Zach’s phone into his pocket as he passed.

Across the circle, the smile had slowly fallen from Eugene's face. He seemed to be giving the question serious thought.

"I don't know," he said. "Don't _want_ you to know? There's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want me to make something up?"

"You wouldn't have to if you just _told me_."

The area between them had gotten quiet, friends shuffling their feet, attention on their cups as they listened raptly or, the few of them who really didn’t want to know, tried to make their escape.

Eugene’s smile picked up again, though it was the irritated smile he wore when he was the only one not in on a joke yet “Told you what?”

"You’re going to South Korea," Zach threw out the sentence like a challenge, in the tone that came before an _I knew it_. His stomach tightened while he waited; he wanted desperately to be proven right, that his indignant anger wasn’t an overreaction...but that would make everything he had been worrying about true.

"I mean,” Eugene looked around their circle of friends, terribly confused and, finding no support there, said, “I decided last weekend."

The knot in Zach’s stomach abruptly unwound and resettled in a lower spot, like molasses. "And you were going to tell me…when?"

"I didn’t think it was a big deal!” Eugene held up a defensive hand as Hannah and Ella peeled away from the group, a little reluctantly. “You were fine with me going to Paris!"

"I wasn’t fine! I was just preparing for you to break up with me!"

If the room was quiet before, it was a vacuum now. If Zach weren’t buzzed and running on anger and embarrassment, he’d find the shocked confusion on Eugene’s face comically endearing. As it was, he just felt a little…barfy. Andrew stepped forward to say something Zach knew he wouldn’t want to hear just now when Ned--reliable, kind Ned--pushed in front of him to draw the group’s attention to himself. “Guys, this is all super exciting _but_ Niki’s setting off firecrackers in the pool!”

It was an over obvious cue, but one that the rest of their friends took with little cajoling. Eugene was staring at his feet, had gathered himself enough to school his expression into something concentrated and a little wet around the eyes. Zach felt most of the anger sag out of him like a deflated balloon. Outside of movies, which they both considered exceptions, he’d seen Eugene cry twice. It made him feel uncomfortable and awkward. He pointedly looked away, focusing on Ned instead.

“Thanks for the save,” Zach held up a fist and Ned, obligingly wrapped a hand around it.

“I get it, man. You think Ariel and I haven’t fought at a party before?” He pulled Zach in to whisper, smelling overwhelmingly like cheap wine. “Just kidding, we’re perfect.”

“And, wow, just like that you ruined it.”

“Fulmer, can you please leave and make sure Niki doesn’t hurt herself?” Eugene said, suddenly very close as he unwrapped Ned’s hand, finger after finger from Zach’s fist. Ned saluted and turned on his heel.

Zach watched him go, somewhat wistfully. He _did_ have a nice ass.

“What do you mean preparing to break up?” Eugene’s tone snapped him back to their previous conversation. His voice was wavering in that dangerously uncomfortable way that threatened the precipice of an emotional conversation. Zach couldn’t blame him, he’d asked for this (yelled for it, actually).

Zach thought about the beautiful, intimidating pamphlet for Pomona and his own words to Eugene, _There are good art schools in Paris._ He thought of Becky and Keith planning their own college to life plan trajectory. It seemed to fit them, but when he tried to picture Eugene and himself there…

“Where do you want to be in ten years?”

Eugene blinked, eyes still a little red, but tears seemingly stymied. He clearly hadn’t been expecting the question. “I can see myself in a beautiful art studio. But let’s see, twenty eight? Recognizable model with my own clothing line.” He slowly took in Zach’s expression. “Why? Where do you want to be?”

“At twenty seven? Married, maybe. I kind of want a kid.”

Eugene’s lips pursed momentarily. “…I could want kids. I mean, I’ll probably want to be a parent one day.”

“Maybe,” Zach shrugged. “You know what you will be? Awesome. And I’ll be…fine.”

A crease appeared between Eugene’s eyebrows. He looked very ready to cry again. “ _Are_ we breaking up?”

“I don’t want to,” Zach admitted, his glasses fogging up and, _oh shit._  He blinked quickly to keep his eyes from stinging. It was probably the more dignified thing to do, more adult, leaving while he sounded relatively caring and cool. Even though his brain screamed to cling to Eugene’s metaphorical skirts. His brain was very loud, and Eugene was apparently taking its side. “I don’t think I could see you all year and not…,” he lifted a hand uselessly towards Eugene.

“I get it,” Eugene grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to break up with you either. Besides you can’t break up with me the same year my parents get a divorce.”

“Oh God,” Zach wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve, ignoring the look Eugene shot him. “You’d never believe in love again.”

Eugene’s fingers squeezed his tighter than Zach was used to.

“Guys,” a cough drew their attention to the doorway of the living room where Adam seemed to be keeping watch. “I’m hosting a party, I can’t keep people out of my house.”

“Sorry,” Eugene quirked an embarrassed grin at him.

Adam looked between them and ducked his head to rub the back of his neck. “Follow me.”

They let themselves be led up the stairs and past a usually closed off hallway, exchanging confused looks behind Adam’s back until they reached—

“Is this your roof?”

“Dude, there’s _another pool_ up here?” Eugene ran to the edge of the water, a little tentative at the sight of the seeming drop off at the edge of the infinity pool.

“Yeah, I save this for party guests that look like they need a special kind of escape. Don’t say I never got you nothing,” Adam’s mouth did a funny dance, grinning one second, flat the next. “One and only one rule; no telling anyone else about the infinity pool.”

“Thanks, Adam. One question,” Eugene stopped his retreat. “Does Andrew know about the infinity pool? Only I feel like he’s made some references that went over my head—"

“Yeah. Caught him up here making out with Lim last August.”

“August!” Zach gaped at Eugene, who was busy mouthing at the floor, _I fucking knew it_.

Zach slid out of his shoes and joined Eugene by the pool. It was cooler out here, light dusk just before nightfall, and harder to remember how he’d gotten so worked up in the first place.

“I think you can see the entire city from here,” Zach dropped to the poolside, rolling up his pants legs and soaking himself to the knees in the water. It was too cold to be comfortable and whatever buzz he was feeling from before was, for the moment, forgotten. After a moment, Eugene sat beside him. “I think my house is…that one.”

“It’s farther to the left, I think,” Eugene pushed his hand a bit in that direction and pulled it down between them.

Zach sighed, kicking his legs with a small splash. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Eugene chewed on the inside of his lip. “I’m taking a gap year.” He finally admitted. “Not because I can’t bear to be without you,” he said with Shakespearean flair. “School probably won’t be _as_ fun without you but its school. I'll survive. I just...don’t know what I want to do.”

“Wow,” Zach let out a short chuckle. “Welcome to my fucking brain.”

Eugene shrugged, smile self-deprecating as Zach had ever seen.

“What about your ten-year goal?”

“I’m talking _next year,_ Zach. You’ve been in an argument with me about what we want to eat for dinner. Ten years is a lot easier to vaguely map out than my next goal post. Whether I'm taking the right steps.” Eugene flexed his fingers. As cool as it was out, their palms were still sweaty. “And I'd _like_ to take them with you. You're right; I'll be fine my own. You'll be awesome.”

“Actually, I said—"

“I know what you said, I'm correcting you. I think we’d be better together.”

Zach kicked his feet in the water again. “What if I need a year when I graduate?”

“Come to Korea. Or we can go to Paris.” Zach stared at him. Eugene stared back, expression implacable. “What?”

“There really is no such thing as a hurdle for you?”

“You're the one who said it,” Eugene’s smile was genuine this time as he pulled Zach to fill the inch between them. “Besides, my boyfriend is an incredibly hard worker. I think he can keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all for now. Maybe one day I will write about the legendary, EPIC first Bianchi party, but until that day it went exactly how you think it did (and more awesome). Thanks for reading!


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